


L'ex-copain

by guardsguards



Series: le présent, le passé et l'avenir [1]
Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Dirk has a shitty past, Drinking, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Project Black Wing, Sexuality, Todd POV, Todd being a bit of a nosy asshole, but todd obviously has a thing for dirk in this, this is technically pre-slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 05:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9421403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guardsguards/pseuds/guardsguards
Summary: Todd just wants to know who Dirk is attracted to. Finding the answer is surprisingly complicated.Set post-season 1 but pretending the last eight minutes didn't happen and the detective agency is up and running. Rating for mentions of sex, language and drinking.





	

He’d once asked Dirk who he was attracted to.

They’d just come to the conclusion of a case and were celebrating at some dingy dive bar, with Dirk eagerly recounting their adventures to any passer-by who would listen. Dirk had eventually collapsed against Todd on a sunken sofa in the corner, but not before he’d had about five tequila shots with a man sat at the bar, who’d been kind enough to let Dirk lick the salt off his wrist for the last few rounds.

Todd didn’t mind if Dirk was attracted to men, but he’d still felt mollified when the stranger at the bar didn’t get the kiss he was obviously gunning for. Instead, Dirk had flopped down beside Todd, and Todd had asked him who he was attracted to. Dirk had replied in a very Dirk-ish way, that is to say, in a very irritating way that didn’t exactly answer Todd’s question.

“I dated once, for three weeks at uni, Camille Dutronc,” he’d slurred, which had seemed to answer the question initially. Camille was a girl’s name; hence Dirk was attracted to women. Except that wasn’t exactly right, because a quick Google search the next morning told Todd that Camille was in fact a unisex name. He’d even tried googling the full name, because surely if Dirk had dated them then they’d done something newspaper-worthy in their life, but no such luck. Todd considered pursuing the issue further, but just as he turned off the computer Dirk had come charging through his living room like a tornado insisting that a banana-farmer in Iceland needed their help.

 

* * *

 

It was in the airport, on the way back from Iceland, that Todd’s curiosity resurfaced. Dirk had overheard a woman complaining about her lost bag and had naturally rushed off to help her, with Farah following in pursuit to make sure that Dirk didn’t get taken in by airport security for being a nuisance.

Todd had been left to look after their luggage.

He’d imagined that he could just mess around on his phone until they got back, except it had been nearly an hour and his phone was running low on battery. He’d had to find something else to occupy the time, namely, nosing through Dirk’s bags.

Todd wasn’t too surprised to find that Dirk’s bag – which was larger than his and Farah’s combined – was filled with clothes. It occurred to him that bringing four jackets for a three-day trip was a slightly gay thing to do, but since Dirk was so far from what could be considered normal, it seemed pointless to apply stereotypes to him. Plus, given how often Dirk’s clothes seemed to get destroyed or lost, bringing that many jackets seemed like a sensible precaution more than anything else.

Apart from the clothes, the only other items in the bag were a wad of cash (emergency money from Farah), a solid gold banana (a souvenir from the case that had probably baffled the people in customs) and a small leather-bound notebook. That stood out to Todd. Dirk didn’t seem like he’d have enough time to keep a diary, and even if he did, his train of thought was surely too hectic to be transcribed. What else could it be, though?

Glancing around a little guiltily, Todd picked up the notebook before he could talk himself out of it. About a third of the pages were blank, and the most recent page read as follows:

 

 

> _**Magnùs Hilmarsson** _
> 
>   * _banana farmer_
>   * _8 children, one with yellow shoes with bows on. custom-made?_
>   * _10 fingers despite a deceptive pair of mittens_
>   * _friendly smile, scary frown_
>   * _gave me a golden banana_
>   * _had to say goodbye as he lives in Iceland_
> 


 

 

Todd supposed it was an accurate enough summary of Magnùs, though not the one he would have given. He probably would have focused more on the fact that Magnùs - and his eight children - had been orangutans.

He flipped past a few more pages, all titled with the names of people they’d met on cases. It didn’t take him long to come across Farah’s page, which was decorated with little cartoon-y ‘POW’s and ‘WHAM’s and which he decided it best not to read. Similarly, on Amanda’s page he glimpsed the word ‘drummer’ and then flicked onto the next.

Todd shouldn’t have been surprised to find that he had a page in the not-diary. He obviously fit the pattern, after all, but it was still weird to see his name scrawled out in that familiar handwriting. He flicked past it, and then the next few dozen entries before he came to a vaguely familiar name on page four.

 

 

> _**Camille Dutronc ( ~~boyfriend~~ )** _
> 
>   * _reading mathematics, terrible with numbers_
>   * _nice hair_
>   * _and nice eyes_
>   * _and nice hands_
>   * _and nice lips_
>   * _invited me for dinner on Feb 12 th_
>   * _and nice smile_
>   * _good kisser_
>   * _and nice arms_
>   * _sex. very enjoyable_
>   * _peculiar accent, regional?_
> 


 

There were a few more points but Todd stopped reading, suddenly feeling that this was a terrible invasion of privacy and Dirk could come running back any minute now, and what would he think if he saw Todd reading that? He shoved the notebook back where he’d found it and zipped the bag shut, waiting uncomfortably for Dirk and Farah to return as his mind kept flitting back to the same three words.

‘sex. very enjoyable’

 

* * *

 

Things came to a head a few months later. They were having their usual post-case drink, this time joined by Amanda and the Rowdy 3. Dirk had been delighted to see Amanda, though less delighted to see who she’d brought with her, and had only taken cautious sips of the same bottle of cider for the rest of the evening as if trying to keep his guard up. Todd had taken no such precaution, and so was well on his way from tipsy to drunk when they all got thrown out of the bar for the rampant destruction of a few bar stools.

Farah had escorted them both back to Todd’s apartment – because although Dirk was sober, he’d still be fairly useless up against a mugger – and then had bid them goodnight, leaving Dirk to escort Todd the rest of the way to his bed.

“Why did you and Camille break up?” Todd slurred, the question coming out rather unexpectedly and the French name being butchered rather brutally. Dirk was obviously thrown by the question, his face cycling through various expressions before settling on a closed off look. 

“He wasn’t real,” Dirk replied after a moment, a frown visible before he turned his back to Todd as if to head towards the door, though he didn’t move, “Where did you hear about Camille?”

“You told me. After the case with all the- the women with the funny thimbles. You told me you dated for three weeks. What d’you mean ‘not real’?” Todd countered, rolling over from where he’d landed face-first on the bed to look at Dirk.

“His real name was Jonathan. He didn’t even speak French. He was there to keep an eye on me for somebody,” Dirk replied, the sentences being thrown out with uncharacteristic curtness. Dirk didn’t need to specify who ‘somebody’ was, and Todd didn’t need to ask.

“That’s pretty fucked up,” Todd mumbled, consciousness slipping away even though he really did want to know more.

“Quite. Goodnight, Todd.” Despite his sharp tone, Dirk still tugged Todd’s duvet over him as he went to sleep.

 The next morning when Dirk awoke him with a bright smile and a rambling explanation of a case he’d solved in his dreams, Todd pushed any further questions about one Camille Dutronc out of his mind, filing the thoughts away like a bullet-pointed list on a page of a notebook.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback/constructive criticism is appreciated, and so are kudos. I'm sort of tempted to write a prequel and/or sequel to this, so let me know if you'd be interested.


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